


making it

by watergator



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, Pride
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 04:21:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19716112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watergator/pseuds/watergator
Summary: dan comes home from pride





	making it

By the time he gets home his feet are aching in his shoes, and sweat has started to form at his hairline and under his arms where it feels sticky and tacky.

Every bone and every muscle aches. He feels like he’s done enough exercise to last maybe the next three years or so. His calves feel four times the size than they did when he left this morning, and his arms are sore from holding up his sign all day, but really, it doesn’t matter to him.

Not when he has a weird pain each side of his jaw from smiling too much all day. It’s a pain worth having for the happiness he feels settle in his chest.

When he kicks his shoes off by the door, it’s like mini orgasms for his feet. He lets out two loud, long dramatic moans, as he slumped against the wall and lets his sign rest there.

Phil appears seconds later; he’s in his daytime pyjamas, glasses on his nose and his hair is a bit of a mess. He’s got a hopeful look on his face when Dan looks at him, and feels his face break into a smile,

“Well,” Phil speaks, and it hits Dan how much he’s suddenly missed him a lot today. “How was it?”

Dan doesn’t answer, but instead peels himself off the wall, takes the few steps to where Phil is standing, and throws his arms weakly around his neck and pulls him in.

Without saying anything, they kiss. It doesn’t have to lead to anything, doesn’t have to really signify anything more than Dan missing his man.

“Was really good,” Dan finally days when they’ve pulled apart. His arms still rest around his neck and their foreheads bump.

He feels as if he could sleep for the next ten years, with the dull ache now settling into every inch of his body, and Phil must recognise that with the weird psychic connection shared between them, because he takes Dan’s arms off of him and takes hold of his hand and wraps his own hand around his.

He gives it a squeeze.

“Pizza and sleep?” He asks, already sounding like he knows the answer.

Because Dan hums, nods and then laughs.

“Sounds like a plan.”

*

His belly is warm and full of the best kind of greasy food. He hadn’t really realised how hungry he’d been up until that moment the doorbell had rung, and Phil had answered it without being bribed or having to battle through a game of rock, paper, scissors.

Dan lets himself lounge on the couch as Phil puts away the cardboard pizza boxes in the kitchen. He knows they’ll have to have a tidy up tomorrow, but he lets himself bask in this feeling a little longer until then.

Phil comes back and sits in his spot on the sofa, and it’s all Dan needs to lean forward and let his head rest on his lap.

Phil lets out a chuckle, and his hands quickly find themselves in his hair where they brush through windswept curls, tugging and running his fingers through each wispy curl.

It feels good enough for Dan to close his eyes and sigh at the sensation.

“It was so good,” Dan mumbles against his thigh.

Phil hums, a sign he’s listening.

“It felt incredible, Phil. Like nothing I’ve felt before.”

It does; he’s never felt this amount of emotion before. He’s spent the entire day walking and chatting and laughing and yelling and being happy, and his head feels clear and his actual soul feels like it’s up in the clouds.

Pride feels like it was some sort of outer body, spiritual experience. Unreal, almost.

His throat tightens and he feels a burn behind his eyelids. He knew he’d cry today, no matter what. He won’t stop it from happening though, not when it feels this good.

“I had such a good time, Phil.” He laughs wetly, and opens his eyes for desperate tears to escape him.

“I know, baby.” Phil whispers. Dan turns himself on the sofa, maybe a bit squished, until he’s flat on his back, looking up at Phil above him.

“Would you come? Next year?”

He isn’t trying to sound hopeful, he knows that crowds and parties and the public attention isn’t exactly Phil’s kind of ideal situation.

Despite the happy feeling thrumming through his body right now, he knows that feeling of overwhelming emotion that washed over him as the parade started and he took his first step in a new scary crowd of people. It’s something he can do, and managed to push through today, but not everyone always can.

Phil smiles though, so sweetly, as his fingers still work their magic against his scalp.

“Maybe,” he tells him. “Although we might need to go incognito mode,” he adds with a whispered laugh.

Dan laughs back. “What? Like full fursuits?”

Drunk on happiness as well as delirious sleepiness, they both fall apart laughing.

“We could do that if you want,” Phil manages to say once he’s no longer overcome with giggles.

Dan looks up at him as they catch their breath for a moment. Tears roll down the sides of his face. His heart feels a million times heavier in his chest, like he’s holding so much love there today; love for his audience, love for the crowd he met, and obviously so much love for Phil.

He reaches up to cup Phil’s cheek, his palm brushes against his lips and Phil is quick to leave a kiss there.

“Bed?” Phil simply says once Dan’s hand has found its way to the side of his face, a thumb running over his cheekbone.

Dan smiles and hums. “Yeah,” he croaks. “Sleep sounds good.”

*

An instastory later, the sequinned shirt is hanging back up in their wardrobe, the door left open. It sparkles and shines and Dan feels a strong sense of pride when he catches glimpses of its rainbow reflection every now and then.

“Get yourself and your gay nipples into bed,” Phil speaks from under the covers. Dan snorts a laugh and is quick to comply.

He settles underneath the grey blanket and his hand instantly finds Phil’s.

“You doing okay?” Phil whispers quietly. It feels like it’s just the two of them that exist in the world right now.

Dan nods. His eyes prickle again and he laughs, voice cracking as he does so.

“I’m so proud of you,” Phil tells him, sounding like he might cry himself. “So, so, so proud.”

Each word comes with a quick kiss to the lips, and Dan lets out a squeal before melting into the last one.

They pull away, and Dan’s already feeling the heavy drag of sleep that weighs him down.

“Get some sleep,” Phil tells him, brushing a stray curl from his eyes.

Dan kisses him one last time for the night, and settles his head into his pillow; the warmth of his bed and the comfort of Phil beside him, hand in hand still, is what helps him begin to drift off to an easy sleep. 

He’ll be tired tomorrow. Phil will let him sleep in till lunchtime and wake him with coffee and food, and maybe they’ll have the laziest kind of sex and stay in their pyjamas all day and spend the whole Sunday for themselves. Maybe he’ll text his nana or give his mum a call and let her know how it all went. He’ll never hear the end of how proud they are of him and he’ll never shut up about telling Phil the tiny details of that day. And no one will care or laugh at him for it because his safe space here exists. His army of gays on the internet, his home here with Phil who will smother him in kisses and remind him how much he loves him or the supportive text from his family.

His heart flutters in his chest at the feeling. His shoulders no longer carry that weight; his chest no longer holds that sadness he once held on to for the last decade of his life. He threw it away and span it into sequins and love and hugs and kisses and turned that pain into something joyous. He scattered that happiness into each individual he met today, leaning over barriers to wrap them up in tight hugs and snap a few photos with a quick hello and a  _ “I’m so proud of you.”  _

Today had been long; the bottom of his feet hurt and he’d probably be feeling the physical turmoil of it tomorrow when his back gets sore and his shoulder go stiff and he has a creak in his knees.

But it’s nothing in comparison to the emotional mark it’ll leave on him - forever. Something he’ll hold onto, and let grow every time June and July roll around and he can smear his rainbow warpaint over his body, stand in a crowd of thousands, hold his head up high with a smile, scream to the world “I’m gay,” and feel free.

And when he wakes that next morning, he still has a stupidly wide grin on his face. Not that he’s complaining whatsoever.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr !! @watergator


End file.
